


A List of Things that Simon is Thinking About Now That There is a Point to it All

by brieflybe



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Fangirl - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow series - Gemma T. Leslie
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-05 17:05:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5383502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brieflybe/pseuds/brieflybe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon likes to think he's making better lists, this time around. Baz says that he's a freak, but Baz in a teenage vampire who's dating Simon and uses all kinds of strange hair products, so he can shut up about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He'll get rid of the dumb tail

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to publish this story in parts, because I think it's more fun that way, and because I hope that it'll give me the push that I need in order to finish it. When I finished reading Carry On all I wanted was for Watford and the characters to stay with me, and this story is what happened. 
> 
> I'd like to thank [asexualizing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Specialcookies/pseuds/asexualizing) for reading and helping me. Thank you dear!

 

1.

 _He'll get rid of the dumb tail._ It's not like he cares that much, honestly – Simon is a lot of things, he's self-righteous and naïve and mediocre in all of the things he was told he'll be one of a kind, but he likes to think that after seven and a half years in Watford, he can deal with one stupid Crowley-the-Demon-You-Can-Win-Contests-at-ComicCon-Like-For-Real-Lets-Take-You-to-Meet-Niel-Gaiman-Tail. It's more that – well, the stupid thing just drugs along after him (well, obviously), it's massive and heavy and bumps into things in accordance to Simon's fucking mood, like instead of catching on fire he's got a fucking wrecking ball, like Simon is still a danger to small animals and fine china; Simon can't sleep on his back, or be the little spoon. It's all sorts of annoying.

Baz, on his part, turns to him with a pair of sharp, grey eyes, like a weapon and says, a rare daylight appearance of that soft, quiet voice that always collides with them, "Look, Simon, I give you crap about this because, you know – what kind of a moron gives himself a tail when he just wanted transportation, even you can see that this is insane, I mean – work with me here, okay, you were a train wreck," (Baz's massage does not always match his tone, either), and then when Simon rolls his eyes, concludes that he's not going to learn anything new from this conversation (they have had it before, there are echoes of it throughout their relationship, always on the funny side of annoying, the romantic sort of concern), and announces that he's going to prepare some Normal Tea just for the Normal sort, so if Baz could excuse him – Baz does not excuse him: he stops him with a hand on his shoulder, near to the back of his neck, where his hair curls, nails sort of digging into Simon's skin, impatient like Simon is being intentionally thick, and continues: "But I could not care less either way. It does not even bother me. In fact," he breathes through his nose, "I don't even think about it, ever, it's not worth my time. The world does not revolve around you and your tail, Snow."

Simon raises his eyebrows. "Unless you mock it."

Baz nods solemnly. "Unless I mock it."

Simon rolls his eyes and smiles at him. There is a funny feeling in his chest, like it's filled with helium,and Simon decide, just for the hell of it, to let it go to his head. Then he swallows and says: "I won't be doing this for you either way. Don't be a narcissist." One has to keep the banter alive, as Baz has so eloquently put it. The thing is, Baz is nice, when he wants to be – to Simon, anyway. On good days, he's the nicest person in Simon's life. He was a terrible, horrible, terrifying, murderous, sort-of-creeping-on-Simon-while-Simon-is-asleep roommate, but he's a supporting boyfriend, and sometimes he would run his fingers through Simon's hair and speak to him in a whisper, and sometimes he'll pull at Simon curls, a little, or pinch his arm, and say: "You are talking nonsense, you need to shut up right now," but he'll be smiling, just a bit, like he has wanted Simon to be daft in his close vicinity for a very long time.

Simon wishes he would be louder – maybe. Clearer. Sometimes. Which is insane, because Baz is the most opinionated vampire in the entire fucking world, the most imperious being in Simon's life, for sure. He's strong headed and assertive to a fault, and it's not like Baz took Simon's lack of magical abilities as a sign to leave behind his ridiculous aristocratic ways, compromise his table manners and start using Simon's generic soap; just, you know, go with the flow, buy closes at Gap. It's just that Simon used to be the problem – Simon's mind and Simon's power and Simon's lack of talent, the sheer commonness that surrounded the core of his magic. Simon thinks about that, sometimes – not because he's still pissed off, but, okay, he had more magic than character, back then, empirically, he had more magic than anything, more magic than water and more magic than air and more magic than sense, and he's not sure what's happening with that vacuum, right now. He'd like Baz to tell him, if it's something he doesn't care for. Not so that he could change, necessarily, but just – to be prepared. Agatha never mentioned anything was wrong. Agatha had almost died and Simon would have arrived too late, because apparently he can only protect one special friend in distress at a time. Agatha went to America and maybe Penny will join her someday. They haven't talked in a while though. It's not that important (It occurs to him that Agatha would have like him better that way, but there is no point for that, in his thinking cycle. There is no point, and he doesn't want her. It just seems funny sometimes – how she wanted up, up and away from magic and Baz is the one who's stuck with him. Like – life is funny. They are weird and funny and long).  

The point is, Simon is open to suggestions – about everything. So if unhappy, Baz should speak up. And anyway, there is nothing attractive about a stupid tail (Penny told him that without it, with just the wings, he would have looked like a manga character. Baz had frowned and announced that this is a horrible thing to say).

ANYWAY. Yeah – sorry, okay. He's speaking too much. No, that's not right, he's speaking too little. And that is something that Penny and Baz are more than willing to both comment about and frown upon. He thinks too much. He's thinking constantly – he's thinking and considering and pondering and it doesn't get him anywhere and he wishes he could stop but does not actively tries to avoid it. It might be a sort of a magic replacement, probably is – words, that is. Questions. If he'll wander in the direction of Penny's library he'll find that he had swallowed all the letters, that he took away all the words, made islands of paragraphs and cities of chapters, the ensemble of magical knowledge and some Virginia Wolf novels crumble under his presence. He'll smudge them with his fingertips. He'll turn them forgettable. He wrecked magic, and now he's going after spells. There are common phrases stuck in his mouth, and he avoids them like a plague. He is the greatest non-cliché speaker in all the land. He's eighty kilos of stuttered authenticity. 

BUT. Anyway, the tail probably has to go, is what he's trying to say. He has even consulted Dr. Wellbelove. It will take a special surgery and he refuses, at the moment, to even touch the subject of the wings. Those are made of bones and soft tissue and could permanently damage Simon's back, if removed in an ill-advised way, plus Simon suspects, they are more pop-culturally acceptable; flying is cool, and you never know when you'll need it someday. It's insane, though. They all are. It makes Simon feel like a freak – not like a demon, or a monster, none of Baz's My Mother Should Have Killed Me While Still Young issues, more like a veteran of war, someone who jumps around loud noises, someone who should be watched and treated with care, someone who has lost both his limbs. Penny has to magic them invisible every single day. When she leaves, Baz will have to do it. It's just so much trouble, that constant bewitching, this dancing around him, this dependency – he isn't even the chosen one anymore, it can't go on forever (like, what if they're gone, and he can't leave the house anymore, what if they go abroad, what if they're dead, what if they leave).

Okay, sometimes, when he looks at himself in the mirror and there is no Watford uniform, no Watford books and no wand and no sword, no wall of power inside of him that reacts to outrage and fear, it's a relief to have this, as – well, as a proof. He made his stupid tail, he created his wings. You can fly, you can fly, you can fly, he can be a fucking Peter Pan, soaring above London, losing his shadow, stealing people's stories. It doesn't actually make him magical though, he is very much a Normal, so – sometimes it's a relief. He'll wake from a dream and won't be able to feel any amount of magic in him, but he'll have the damn tail, he'll have his stupid wings. Sometimes it seems so futile he's tempted to chop them off himself. It's such a waste of magic, too, and Simon has wasted more than enough magic for five life times. Keeping them will be a selfish thing to do.

But Baz is honestly fine with them. It's like they are just another extension of Simon Snow Human Disaster, like when he looked into a hypothetical future and pictured a life with Simon there were always weird magical mutations involved, and so he's not fazed about it in the least. He never trips on the tail. He knows how to touch the wings in a way that makes them folds, when Simon is too worked up and doesn't manage it. Baz claims to like Simon for he's personality and wide shoulders and nice face. He likes to pull at his hair. He likes the moles on his back. It's sort of overwhelming, really. Just sometimes. Like, they both had feelings for each other, right? It goes years back. But Baz is way ahead of Simon in terms of awareness: where Simon had barely had the time to go from Neutralize Baz Mode to 'your voice is sort of cute when you talk while your fangs are out', Baz has already known that he liked Simon's hair when it's longer. He has always wanted to touch that spot on Simon's collar bone. He likes Simon in green. He's miles ahead in both pining and nice thoughts, and depending on the day, he's both pissed off and/or smug about it.

Once, they were sitting on Baz's bed, in Baz's new bedroom, and Baz had said: "Penelope totally approves of me, you know." – and without waiting for a response – "She says I'm better for you than Agatha was." Simon just shrugged. "Agatha would say that too, if asked. So will I. You're very smug considering there was quite a big consensus on that subject to begin with." Baz had kissed him, then. Just because (sometimes Baz acts like he doesn't really know what to do with Simon, now that he has him). It occurs to Simon that Baz had tried to kill him numerus times (or just that one time). It occurs to him that he never thought he could have this. It makes him sad, sort of, and sort of angry, but most of all it makes him feel stable. Like Baz is his home base. Like Baz has wanted him long enough for it to stick. ("You can fly," Baz had told him once. Simon had rolled his eyes at him. "Yay," he said. "Where?" Baz had shrugged, a rare occurrence. "Not too far." That's it, really).    

But what was Simon talking about? Oh, yeah. So Baz is cool with the wings and everything. They're doing fine.  

(Once, one of Penny's brother asks them how they possibly manage to have sex like this. Baz had set him on fire. He should probably get rid of the tail). 


	2. University is fine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's tremendous fun, some of the time – and then, on other times it's – well, it's stupid, but he can't help but think about how they didn't know him as a mage. They didn't know him as Baz's arch enemy, or a s the chosen one, or as an abandoned kid in foster care. He's not sure why it pushes the past farther away from him, but it does.

2.

 _University is fine_. It's constant. He's allowed to speak of it to strangers. He's allowed to bring his friends home. He's also fine with most of his classes, though nothing, so far, seems like the one thing he'd like to do for the rest of his life. It isn't a home – it's a place that he goes to, but he has a different home, which's also constant (unless London's rent will finally finish him for good), he has people to see and places to go. There are no uniforms. There are no meals with pies and buns and pudding. There is no Ebb (there will never be any place with Ebb, ever), there is no grass or a lake (actually, there is grass. He got carried away), there is no vampire arch enemy lurking in the corner of his eye. There is no prophecy, there is no missions, no danger, no going off, no causing damage, no Great Mage (there will never be any Great Mage again, ever), no magic he can only partly control or spells he can only partly preform or ancient languages he can never fully grasp. There is no magic (there will never be any magic again, ever).  It's only a problem because – the uniforms were what he wore, all the time, when he was himself. The food was the only food he ate that was worth something. Watford was the place he forfeited he's soul to, it was what he was, his background, and now he can't get in. He had to buy all new clothes. He's pretty much useless at cooking.

He misses his classes at Watford but he also doesn't, not really. There was always this sense of dread, this uncertainty in whether his magic will actually listen to him, this twisted feeling in his stomach when it did not. There is less pressure here. Like, statistic is an honest to god nightmare and who even knows what Digital Humanities are, but he weirdly enjoys Anthropology ("That's fantastic," Penelope had said. "You could be a social worker." – "I'm –" – "You know the system from the inside, that will give you a nice edge. And you could spend your life helping people." – "I just said the class wasn't boring. I'm not – " "I'll research job requirement.") and he does in fact enjoys environmental studies ("That's so typical of you," Baz had announced, "It's like science, but fake."  Penny, in response, had punched him in the arm with her ring wearing hand). He's okay with literature, too, now that it doesn't feel completely futile to read. He likes Dickens. He likes The Count of Monte Cristo. He's read Dracula, just to piss Baz off. He has hobbies now. He even got all caught up on BBC Sherlock. He has other people besides Penny to study with, and more importantly, he doesn't need help all the time. He's fine just sitting in his room with a text book and reading. When he can't focus, he'll walk over to Green Park and try and study there, or call up a friend.

That's another nice thing – Simon can apparently make friends without getting people drunk on magic ("you just get them drunk on beer," mutters Penny, who sticks by her three friends rule. Baz snickers.). He's a nice person – he knows this. He's friendly. He's always willing to lend people his notes. He gets invites for outings, for parties, for study group. He accidently gets phone numbers and then he has to throw them away (Tom from English Literature once had the misfortune of hitting on Simon while Baz was around. It's… interesting, seeing a vampire jealous. It's… yeah. Just. Yeah. No. What in the world was Tom thinking. And Simon isn't even sure if he is gay. Like, obviously he's gay for Baz, but it doesn't feel like he's gay for Tom. So.). (He sorts of like it that Baz gets jealous. He's not that good of a person. It's worth it. Whatever). He even got himself a Facebook page, which Penny claims is a waste of time while Baz announces it appalling. And he cannot support any of it. But Baz also hovered until Simon had changes is relationship status, so Baz can shut it ("It's complicated?" suggested Simon innocently. "I will end you," Baz had answered, voice flat." – "Domestic abuse," stated Simon solemnly. "That's why it's complicated.").

It's tremendous fun, some of the time – and then, on other times it's – well, it's stupid, but he can't help but think about how they didn't know him as a mage. They didn't know him as Baz's arch enemy, or a s the chosen one, or as an abandoned kid in foster care. He's not sure why it pushes the past farther away from him, but it does. Like there is a part in his present that's completely other. Like there will be a future where all the roads to Watford are lost. It's like letting Baz walk him away from the Chapel, without the Mage or Ebbs or his magic. It's like waking up the next morning, not a drop of magic in his bones. There is something in the intensity at the wake of a trauma that makes you feel that it's all temporary – because you can’t possibly live and feel like that forever, and you can’t possibly know what had happened and feel any less, or any different, than you do right now. So he's having some trouble walking away from this. Time makes him nervous, sometimes. He can dig his hills in the entrance gate and touch his hand to the metal and pretend that it will open any second now, he could do it for days and weeks and months, and time will still come between them, creating unbridgeable distance.

Thing is, time is a treasure. It used to be the most valuable currency in Simon's life. To Chosen one Simon, the amount of time Simon's got now will seem obscene. There is no happy ending, is the thing - or maybe that's not fair, because there definitely was an ending of sorts, and he's definitely sort of happy, but, okay, it's mostly just life. With time, and school, and the people he loves, and no magic of his own in it. It's a good option, probably, there was no better one, for sure, he would not have done anything differently. But Watford was he's default setting – his clothes, his room, the holes in his thoughts, he couldn't believe that it was real and now it isn't, but he can’t shake the residue of it off of him. He dreams about it, still – about the chapel, about watching Baz play football. Sometimes Baz would crush in their flat and Simon would wake up to see him and think their back there. It's a sense memory. He was wired to it. He isn't wired to anything, right now.

He's trying not to think about it. But, you know, those stuff get to you either way. He thinks about it almost all the time now. About Baz, who was convinced he should have died and the way to do it was to make Simon kill him. About his parents, and what were they, and how they left, or died, or maybe the Great Mage had just created him in a lab somewhere. About going with Penelope to the movies and Baz kissing him on the corner of his mouth when Simon is about to leave his apartment at nights, runs his fingers along the outlines of the chain of Simon's pedant, through is shirt, like he wishes he could touch it, make sure its magic is still there ("If you ever get bitten and killed by a damn vampire in Soho just because I wasn't there I will personally find and murder every vampire in the world, Simon. I mean it." He breathes. "Then I will wait whatever time is left until the opening of the vail, just to so you could watch me joins them." – "That's very dark, Baz." – "Yeah, whatever." – "Are you sure you don't want to talk to –" – "It was a joke, Simon. Crowley, shut up.").

He thinks about how there is a long stretch of years ahead of him, not like a road but like the sea, dangerous and endless; he can't breathe sometimes, thinking about it. He doesn't know what to do with it, afraid of not being able to, afraid, thought it doesn't make any sense, he'll use it all up in one go. Right now, though, his day stick together, like soldiers in battle, like sticky notes. Penny is constantly writing their schedule on a white board that she put up in the kitchen, muttering to herself about homework and house chores and trips to the library, there are periods of time in Simon's day she knows that Baz will be coming over and just writes: USELSS in a red marker. Simon still thinks she's being overdramatic. It's just life. It's just is. Someday Penny will move to America and Baz will move in and they all will be finished with another school, and that will be just life, too. Maybe a good life, or maybe they'll just get through it. Baz says the Simon has become a pessimist but Simon doesn't think that's true. He's just sad, sometimes. He will forever be without magic, but surely he won’t be forever sad, right? Because, okay -  there is a spell used for tuning clocks that's called: "No time like the present." He's got obscene amount of time, truly. He's got a present.          


	3. Agatha.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He thinks about it exactly once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short, slightly depressing one. A very long, fun chapter coming soon though! I promise rainbow flags.

3.

He thinks about it exactly once: _Agatha and he_ would have attended some far away university, maybe in the south, or in Ireland, or New Zealand, maybe, where there are mountains and Hobbits and sheep. They would have studied in some other old building that looks like a castle, surrounded by thick green forest and mowed green grass, a pale reflection of their former school, too ancient to be called home, no magic to connect between you and the past. She would have become a Vet, they would own three horses, at least, and two dogs.  Simon would have been… whatever, he's not sure. They would have had a yard, a home that's covered in green, all over, green dripping into the house, climbing on top of their windows, blocking out the sun. It probably would have been beautiful. Okay, maybe he would have been a Vet too. He could have looked after Ebb's goats. Or something. He could have helped Agatha with her work. She would have been better at this than he was, so she would supervise, it would have all worked out okay.

They would have gotten married, a small wedding with Agatha's family, and Penny, and their neighbors. They would have had some kids, probably, one or two, and they would have been magic, and they would have gone to Watford someday, too. He doesn't think about that part. The kids part. It makes something twist painfully in his chest.

She would have felt sorry for him, for sure, but not like Baz is. Baz is well and truly sad for him, Baz will forever think of the loss of Simon's magic as a tragedy. Baz is in love with magic, and Simon still can't help but wonder if all feelings for him were built upon that love. Simon feels like a cripple. Simon has wings and tails for prosthetics. Baz would have felt like that too. He will never say, sucks, get over it. Simon wishes he would, sometimes, but this is another thought altogether. Agatha will be at peace, she'll be calmer, and maybe secretly pleased. It will be like a grief over a mother in law you hated, your best friend's pet the always used to bite you, a teacher that made you feel like crap. She would have been relieved, and her love for him would have been built upon that relief. They never would have mentioned Baz's name.

Simon thinks about this exactly once, because he never dared to, before, and then he thinks about jamming something sharp into his right eye. It ends right there. He's trying not to think about it anymore. He doesn't have to try that hard.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr right [here!](http://briefly-be.tumblr.com/)


End file.
